She stands in the distance, the wind blowing lightly so that her hair takes on a life of its own. The golden color mixes in with the setting sun, the same sun that shines down so bright it makes her white dress nearly transparent in front of him. And Charles wonders if he would ever meet another woman who makes his chest tighten the way it did when his eyes fall on Camilla.
Their time alone at the lake house is coming to an end soon and they would return to school to take on another week with the masses. He sighs at the thought of returning, of the freedom he would be losing. Camilla and he spent the day curled up in each other, skin on skin and hands clenched to hands as the morning sun rose over their naked bodies in the master bedroom. But now the day was wasting away into night and soon they would have to sleep - to prepare themselves to leave. He moves closer to his sister, and when she is in arms reach, he wraps thin arms around her center and pulls her close. Charles inhales deeply, burying his face against her hair.
"Can't we stay here forever?"
Camilla matches his sigh then, and leans her weight back into his arms, allowing him to hold her up. Her delicate fingernails brush over his arm, leaving white scratch marks in their wake.
"I imagine Francis would want his house back eventually."
Her laugh is lilted and sweet and it fills Charles's heart. He reaches up and curls his fingers around her hair to pull it away from her neck and then his lips brush the spot, littering small kisses on her pale skin. A quiet moan of pleasure leaves her lips then and she reaches up to touch his face and pull him closer. Its then that her lips find his and she kisses him deeply, tongue pushing past his teeth. Charles presses his fingers into her waist and walks them down, bunching her dress in his hands. He can feel the stubbly hair on her upper thigh and her skin goose pimples as he touches her.
"Should we go inside?" Camilla asks, her voice a whisper. Charles shushes her and continues moving his hand closer to her center. He rests his hand over the front of her underwear for a moment, feeling the heat building. She stops off on a yelp as Charles bites against the smooth skin of her neck then dips his fingers into her underwear. His fingers rub against her vulva at first, gently massaging her folds. Charles wraps his free arm around her waist, holding her tight for support and Camilla rests a hand there, digging her fingers lightly in.
"Charles," she breathes, eyes closing as he reaches his fingers inside of her, "anyone could come…" He smirks then, pressing a quick kiss against her shoulder. "That's going to be you." His joke makes Camilla laugh, but the noise is cut short when a finger brushes against her clit. Her hand tightens against his arm and she arches her back. Charles rubs her clit slowly at first, running the little nub of flesh in a circle. She breathes his name like a prayer, a prayer that makes Charles believe in some higher power. He leans over slightly so he can press his fingers into her - gaining a slow rhythm. Camilla kisses him lazily, and her breath is growing hasty.
"What do you want, Camilla?" he asks, thumb moving back to her swollen clit. He can feel her tensing and he knows she's about to reach her peak so he pulls away then and brings his fingers to his mouth. His eyes lock onto hers as he licks her taste from his finger tips. "What do you want?" Charles repeats, voice soft. Camilla turns then and pulls his body against hers harshly, hungrily fighting for his lips. She forces him down to his knees and Charles sinks into the sand. Camilla joins him immediately, her dress pulled up in her hands. It's a rush for power between them, and Camilla wins, forcing Charles's pants down from his waist. She pushes her underwear aside and lowers herself on his hardened cock, a hiss leaving her lips.
"I want you. I want you always."
Charles nearly comes then, but he holds tight to her hips and follows her motions as Camilla moves up and down in a hasty rhythm. Her eyes are half lidded and she is moaning, the sound so beautiful to Charles. There are no words to be shared between them as they fuck on the bank of the lake, as they become as one like they were in the womb. She guides his hands to her breasts and Charles kneads them through the light cotton dress. The extra sensation sends waves through Camilla's body and she cries out, nearing her climax. Charles leans up then and wraps his arms around her, holding her close as they move as one.
Camilla hides her face against his neck and bites down as she comes, her body shaking against his. She continues to roll her hips forward, even as she slowed and after a moment Charles's arms tighten around her. He pulls out of her then and comes on her milky thighs, the color mixing with her pale skin. Camilla stays in his arms, catching her breath as Charles does the same. He leans forward and kisses her then, over and over and over until they are no longer heaving.
"Did you mean what you said?" he asks, hands curling in the ends of her hair. It's longer than usual and she needs a haircut - just another thing she has put aside in favor of studies.
She looks at him then and reaches up, pushing his hair from his face. There is a small smile on her face as she uses her dress to wipe his seed from her inner thigh. Still she doesn't answer. Instead she stands up and glances out toward the few boats on the lake.
"It's nearly time for dinner," she says instead and Charles watches as she walks toward the house, her dress blowing in the wind like it had before.